


The Mind's Own Mirror

by chains_archivist



Series: The Mirror Crack'd by Kathye [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Boys in Chains, Dark, M/M, No happy endings yet, Prison, unhappy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Kathye </p><p>Obi-Wan discovers that nothing about his universe is as it seemed. Follows on from The Mirror Crack'd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mind's Own Mirror

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).
> 
> \--
> 
> Notes: Well, after playing with this for 10 months, taking it apart and putting it back together, here it is, such as it is, my first "big" solo story. Many thanks to Ange and Sar for putting up with reading all the strange stuff I've been sending them. Special thanks to Sar for telling me that the story didn't end where I thought it did. Without her this would be literally half the story it is. Looking back into my file cabinet, I find that the original idea for this was spawned by some things that Alison and Ruth said, so thanks to them. Also, apologies to any Chinese speakers out there -- I do so love to pull Star Wars names from my Chinese dictionary. The title comes from a Gerard Manley Hopkins poem that has nothing to do with this story, except that it contains the word "mirror". (If this were the Oscars, the orchestra would have started to play by now, so I suppose I should wrap this up.)
> 
> Disclaimer: (dis KLAM er), n. A denial, disavowal, or renunciation, as of a title, claim, interest, estate, or trust; relinquishment or waiver of an interest or estate. A public disavowal, as of pretensions, claims, opinions, and the like.

Obi-Wan Kenobi propped himself up on one elbow, watching his master sleeping next to him. In the darkness of pre-dawn he could just make out the craggy features. A sad smile crossed his lips as he examined the older man. Qui-Gon was not beautiful, not by the standards of most, but it was a face that Obi-Wan had adored. He reached out a hand, not quite touching his master's skin, lightly stroking the air above the other man's cheek. After a few moments more of contemplation, he stiffly dragged himself from the bed, suppressing a groan as he did so. 

Navigating through their Temple quarters using only the reflected light from the surrounding buildings, he picked up his torn shorts from the floor and tossed them into the trash. He stepped into the cleansing room and considered the shower, but dismissed the idea; the time he had spent observing his master had cost him any time he could have spent there. After last night, everything had to be perfect when Qui-Gon awoke. 

He shivered as he briefly scrubbed a cold, damp washrag across his body, then he ran wet hands through his hair and quickly rebraided his padawan lock. Pausing, he examined the darkening bruise on his left cheek in the mirror then looked down his body at the companion marks on his wrists and hips. They could be removed fairly easily with a healing trance, but he would not do that. His master had put them there, and he would not be happy if his lesson disappeared too quickly. Perhaps later, when Qui-Gon's anger had abated... 

Obi-Wan allowed himself a small sigh, wondering how he could have been so foolish. 

After dressing quickly, he went about his morning duties. When he saw the scuffed condition of his master's boots Obi-Wan cursed silently and took a worried glance out the window. The growing light was no comfort, only a reminder that he was running out of time. Of course, after what had happened last night, there had been no opportunity to go back and finish his chores. He picked up the cleaning rag and oil and gingerly knelt on the floor, gasping as he bent and pain stabbed through the center of him. That was another injury that he hoped he could attend to soon. 

Obi-Wan looked up at his still sleeping master from his position on the floor, vision blurring with unshed tears. He had thought himself lucky in being chosen by Qui-Gon. All masters dominated their padawans, physically and mentally, teaching them their place in the Order from the beginning. A Jedi Padawan's life of strict celibacy ended at the age of First Adulthood, when most masters followed ritual and took their apprentices brutally, forcing them to be submissive in this aspect as well. After that time, they were available for their Masters to use as they wished. 

But unlike the other apprentices, his master had never used him roughly before, not even the first time Qui-Gon had taken him to his bed. 

Obi-Wan finished one boot and picked up the other. He stared at it as he recalled what had happened when he had finally reached First Adulthood. 

That day they had just finished a mission on Alderaan. Obi-Wan waited nervously for Qui-Gon to return from his last meeting with the Prince. Older apprentices had tormented the younger ones with their horror stories for years, and Obi-Wan was terrified of sex. He had known what to expect -- pain, shame, humiliation -- and was sick from the anticipation. 

Then, suddenly, Qui-Gon was back. Obi-Wan stripped and went to wait for his master on his bed, crouching there on his elbows and knees. Qui-Gon surprised him by pulling him into his arms and kissing him gently. That night Obi-Wan learned that his fellow padawans did not necessarily know everything and that, to the depths of his soul, he loved his master. 

Over the past two years, Obi-Wan had started to think that he was more to Qui-Gon than just a warm body to use... 

The young man blinked rapidly and vigorously scrubbed at the boot in his hands. Well, Qui-Gon had disabused him of that delusion. 

Obi-Wan's throat tightened and he wrapped his arms around his chest, ruthlessly suppressing a sob. He had to rein in these emotions before he woke Qui-Gon with them. Sucking in a deep breath, he chanted to himself: 

'There is no emotion: there is order. There is no emotion: there is order.' 

He slowed his heart rate and made his breathing steady. As he had been taught his entire life, he wrapped a web of cold control around himself, then got up to continue with the rest of his morning tasks. 

Tea was started and the small table was laid out with a light breakfast. He walked through the rooms, taking one last look around, searching for anything out of place. 

He stopped when he saw his data-pad lying on the floor where he had dropped it last night. Crouching down, ignoring the pain, he picked up the pad. It still showed the subject that he had been studying last night before... before... 

Tears clouded his eyes, and this time one did escape, leaving a wet trail down his cheek. He had been so happy last night -- it was hard to believe that he could be so miserable today. 

Against his will, he remembered... 

 

All of his tasks were finished, except for cleaning his master's boots, which the man was still wearing. After changing into a pair of shorts, Obi-Wan lounged on the floor of the bedroom, reading a dry essay about the political structure of the next planet they were to visit. Qui-Gon was sitting at his desk, preparing the report he was to give to the Council the following day. Obi-Wan gave up reading the tedious treatise and lost himself in watching his beloved master. Eventually, Qui-Gon had felt the stare and turned to look at his apprentice. Obi-Wan continued to gaze at him, feeling his love for the other man fill him, a half smile on his lips. 

The master Jedi raised an eyebrow and asked fondly, "Padawan, is there something you need?" 

The only answer the younger man gave was to smile more broadly and gaze suggestively into his master's eyes. 

"Obi-Wan, I must finish this report." Qui-Gon ignored the implicit proposition and returned to his writing. Frustrated, Obi-Wan leaned back on his elbows, caressing his own chest. He concentrated on Qui-Gon, sending heated thoughts to his master. 

Sighing, Qui-Gon laid down his stylus and turned to fully face his student. "You seem to be thinking very intently. Is there something on your mind that you need to discuss?" 

Obi-Wan found himself entranced by deep blue eyes and, suddenly, years of adoration overwhelmed him. His heart thumped in his chest, and without thinking he stammered, "Master... Qui-Gon. I ... I think I love you." 

Qui-Gon changed. All traces of warmth were wiped off the older man's face, replaced by an emotionless mask. He slowly stood and walked across the room to his apprentice. Frightened, Obi-Wan drew himself up onto his knees, dropping his data-pad. The man stood in front of him, cold, silent, and Obi-Wan searched his master's eyes for any remnant of his affectionate lover. 

He wasn't there. 

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a brutal backhanded blow that knocked him to the floor. As he lay gasping, Qui-Gon grabbed the hair at the back of his head and hauled him to his feet. One of his arms was violently twisted behind his back and he closed his eyes, suppressing a whimper of pain. 

He was pushed onto the bed, his wrist still pressed against his shoulder blades, his face smashed into the pillow. A strong hand grabbed the waistband of his shorts and wrenched on it -- the thin material tearing away easily. 

There was a rustle of fabric; a tunic edge brushed against his bare flesh. He felt weight settle on him, felt the hard erection press at his opening. Then sudden, searing pain when his master entered him, unprepared. A cry was bitten back as flesh tore. His master freed his arm and instead gripped his hips with bruising strength, pulling them up, pounding into him. Involuntary tears streaked Obi-Wan's face and he clutched the bed coverings until his knuckles turned white.

His mind disconnected from what was happening to his body, and with detachment he cataloged each sensation, from the slap of flesh with each thrust, to the taste of blood in his mouth, to the stink of his own fear. He finally buried his face in the pillow and focused inward, enduring and waiting. 

Eternities later, the man above him shuddered and plunged in deeply. A heartless warmth filled his bowels, then he was emptied as his master withdrew and rolled off him. After lying still a few moments, he made a move to get out of the bed. A large arm draped across his back, pressing him into the mattress. The message was clear -- stay here and absorb the lesson. Eventually, he heard Qui-Gon get out of bed and return to writing his report. Obi-Wan was still awake when he returned, and Obi-Wan stayed awake all night, thinking about this new puzzle his master had given him. 

And as the morning light continued to brighten the room he knew the answer. Qui-Gon had perhaps taught him one of the most important lessons he could ever learn. 

If he wished to survive the rest of his apprenticeship, if he wanted to survive as a Knight, he had to harden his heart and purge all emotions. If there was one thing that he learned from his 'lesson', it was that there was no place for love, no place for tenderness, and no place for compassion in the lives of the Jedi, Guardians of Order and rulers of the galaxy. 

A surge of anger ripped through him and he fought the impulse to throw the data-pad against the wall, instead placing it carefully on the desk. He struggled again to accept what had happened. Submission was his duty. His body belonged to his master, to do with as he pleased. This was the life of a Jedi Padawan. 

He ran his fingers over the tattoos that encircled his right wrist -- the first one identifying him as Jedi, the second marking him as belonging to Qui-Gon Jinn. When... if... he became a Knight, he would receive another one, his own distinctive pattern. 

For the hundredth time, thousandth time, he doubted his ability to carry out the duties of a Jedi Knight. Once he became a Knight, he would be sent out into the galaxy to enforce Order and ensure compliance to the mandates of the Council. Many planets rebelled against the rule of the Jedi. Once. 

He touched a web of scars, farther up his arm, and remembered how he got them. He and Qui-Gon had been sent to a planet on the outer Rim, he forgot which one, to order the chieftain who controlled most of the clans to bow to Jedi rule. The woman and her people rejected the Council's authority. With no emotion, Qui-Gon had calmly ordered Obi-Wan to kill her son. He refused. 

That was the last thing that he remembered for three days. 

Waking in a medical center, he struggled to focus and saw his master standing over his bed. Qui-Gon leaned down, looked deeply into his eyes, then whispered into his ear, "Remember: 'There is no mercy: there is obedience.' This is the cost that you will be asked to pay every time you show mercy or compassion. Can you suffer this price again?" Without another word, the master Jedi turned and left him in the care of the healers. 

He had considered the question while he convalesced, and contemplated it still. How much would he be willing to endure, what would he give up, to help another person? He didn't know. 

There was one thing he did know. He would rather die than commit another atrocity in the Council's name. 

Shaking his head, he walked over to the window and leaned against the wall, watching the city traffic. That was an empty boast; death was easily found and he had little to live for, in any case. There was no resigning from the Jedi. Once taken into the Temple, you served the Council for your entire life. A padawan who was not worthy, or who broke under the strain, would have his or her master's tattoo eradicated, and the mark of a slave inscribed instead. If he failed to become a Knight, he would spend the rest of his life in a force-annulling collar, to be used by true Jedi as they wished. 

He could run. Not that he had heard of any who had ever succeeded. Any Jedi who ran was hunted down by special retrieval teams -- Hunters. Once sent after a fugitive, they did not return to the Temple until the runaway was captured or dead. And they always returned. 

Obi-Wan touched the tattoos again, covering them with his hand. No sentient being would help anyone Jedi-marked, for fear of retaliation. The tattoos were practically indelible -- only a few Council members knew the secret of removing them. Some of the more desperate fugitives had gone so far as to cut their own forearm off, not that it had helped them. He had seen them, one-armed, displayed in the main courtyard before being taken away to their death. 

He suddenly realized that his face was being bathed in the sunlight of full morning. He jerked his head to look at his master. Thankfully, the man was still asleep. Hurrying over, he knelt by the side of the bed. 

Obi-Wan bowed his head, unable to stop thinking about where his path in life would lead. Death, slavery, or brutality seemed his only choices. 

There was almost no chance that he would succeed if he ran ... but he would do it. The revelation startled him as he tasted the idea, feeling the rightness of it. He would run and he would see what was out there in the galaxy. He would find a way to challenge the rule of the Jedi. Maybe there were people out there who needed his help. Maybe he could evade the Hunters long enough to atone for what he did as a Jedi. Maybe he would even take a few of them down before they dragged him back. 

Except... 

He felt his hands shake, and clenched his fists to stop them. Except his master would also come hunting for him. Could he really fight his master? Could he kill him, if he had to? 

"Padawan!" 

Obi-Wan snapped his head up to see his master sitting on the edge the bed, glaring at him. His breath caught in his chest and he froze. If Qui-Gon had overheard any of those last thoughts, he could kill him on the spot. He tried to swallow and stared wide-eyed at the older man, waiting to know his fate. 

"Padawan, attend me!" Qui-Gon growled impatiently. Obi-Wan broke from his near trance and quickly helped his master dress, then followed him to the outer room, kneeling next to the low table, pouring tea and placing food on a plate for the other man. He waited, and at a gesture from the master, filled a plate for himself and started eating. 

A wince as his bruised jaw tried to chew did not go unnoticed by his master. 

"Obi-Wan, I want you to report to the Healers this morning." 

Ah, so it was to be public humiliation as well. He'd never had to go to the Healers for this type of injury before. The news would spread throughout the Temple within an hour of his visit. 

"And then I think that meditation upon last night in the Central Gardens will be in order." 

Very public humiliation. He clenched his teeth, disregarding the pain, and forced a meek "Yes, Master" from his lips. 

He felt tears prick at his eyes again and bowed his head. Qui-Gon grabbed his chin and tilted his face up to look at him. 

"You must control yourself, Obi-Wan. 'There is no passion...'" 

"...there is discipline'," Obi-Wan completed. "I remember, Master." 

Qui-Gon stood and walked to the door, then looked back at his padawan. 

"I will miss our afternoon training session. After I deliver my report to the Council, I have business at the Senate until late, and will sleep there tonight. Occupy yourself constructively." Qui-Gon waited for him to nod, then left him to his punishments. 

 

Obi-Wan slipped past the droids in the delivery bay and out onto the landing dock. He walked up to the edge and peered over. Even here, on one of the lower levels of the Temple, he couldn't see the surface of the planet, only impenetrable darkness. Standing at the edge, the wind whipping his cloak about him, he looked across the gap to the landing dock of the next building. The Temple was isolated, not physically attached to any other structure, but the extended landing docks brought the building close enough to jump to. 

Theoretically. 

He walked back to the Temple end of the dock and considered the distance between the buildings again, then stripped off his robe, revealing the non-Jedi clothing beneath it. He balled up the robe, intending to drop it over the side, but changed his mind and stuffed it into his travel bag. Its warmth might prove useful. 

Obi-Wan strapped his bag securely across his back. Gathering the Force to him, he took a deep breath and ran toward the edge of the dock. At the very brink, he leaped. 

A gust of wind hit him mid-flight, pushing him toward the chasm next to the dock. He twisted in midair and just barely managed to catch the rim of the dock with one hand. The rough ferracrete tore at his fingertips as he desperately hung on. With a small boost from the Force, he pulled himself up onto the dock, then crawled into the delivery bay, hiding behind some containers. When he could sense that no droids or sentients were close, he stood and straightened his short jacket, buttoning the sleeves over his tattoos. His braid was tucked into his collar and his lightsaber was slipped into the inner pocket of the jacket. He hoisted his bag to his shoulder, found a maintenance shaft, and started the long climb up to the more populated levels. 

Now that he was away from the Temple, he was aware of just how unformed his plans were. He wished that he could've had the time to make better escape plans, but it was rare for Qui-Gon to leave him alone, and he didn't know when the next time would be. This half day start was the best chance he was going to get. If Qui-Gon didn't check on him right away in the morning, he might have almost a full day before the Hunters started after him. 

Obi-Wan emerged onto a crowded concourse and did his best to blend in. He could hide himself briefly among the life forces of the billions of Coruscant, but he needed to get off-planet as quickly as possible. If he could find a ship, he could use Jedi mind tricks to conceal himself from the crew. Once away from Coruscant ... well, he would worry about that when he got that far. Before he left, he had gone into the information system to get a list of all scheduled   
departures from the planet's biggest spaceport. The Hunters would trace all of his computer activity and find this information very quickly of course, so he was headed to a smaller launching pad, relatively close to the Temple. 

When he stopped to look at his datapad and check his location, he was jostled and buffeted by the crowd. He pushed his way to the railing and considered, for the first time, the 'common' people of Coruscant. All his life, he had lived high above them, separate and privileged. The Jedi controlled every aspect of their lives; they were assigned homes, assigned tasks, assigned families. Obi-Wan had assumed that they were mindless drones, loyally doing the work of the Council. Opening his mind a fraction, he was shocked to find that, though they appeared orderly, beneath the surface they were seething. Chaotic waves of suppressed anger crashed over him. Used to the extremely controlled minds of the Jedi, he stumbled backward in shock. 

Overwhelmed, he pushed his way through the crowd until he reached a narrow alley. He ran through a maze of passages until he found a deserted spot on a walkway, then leaned against the railing, breathless. His composure slowly returned, and he looked around, trying to figure out where he was. 

Hearing approaching footsteps, he looked out at the building across from him, attempting to appear inconspicuous. There was a tug on his sleeve, and he glanced down to see a young girl standing there. Her face was streaked with tears and she was breathing hard, as though she had been running. 

"Please help me! They have my da and they're after me!" 

Obi-Wan hesitated. He didn't have much time to find a transport. The girl tugged on his sleeve again. 

"Please? They're going to hurt him!" 

He sighed and knelt down, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Who are 'they'? I'll call the Lawkeepers to come help your father." 

She clutched onto his jacket and sobbed into his chest. "Lawkeepers won't help. The Jedi have him. The gray ones." 

Obi-Wan froze. 'Gray Jedi' -- the Hunters. Whatever her father had done, Obi-Wan could not afford to interfere. The Hunters would know immediately what he was, and then he was dead. He pushed the girl away from him. 

"I'm sorry. I cannot help you. I..." She stared up at him with trusting eyes. Unbidden, the memory of another child came to him, along with a question that he had been asked at the time. Indecision held him paralyzed. He sensed someone approaching and chose. 

He grabbed her, ran towards some refuse containers and hid behind them, shielding her with his body and crouching low. He heard footsteps stop where he and the girl had been standing. Obi-Wan peeked through a gap in the containers and saw two gray-robed Hunters. 

"I thought I sensed her here." 

"I did as well. She cannot be far." 

Obi-Wan felt the other Jedi begin to scan the area. He closed his eyes and clutched the girl closer to his chest. All intelligent thought was blanked out as he tried to think rodent-like thoughts. 

"There is nothing here but vermin. She must be farther ahead." 

The Hunters left, continuing down the walkway. Obi-Wan slowly stood up, still holding the girl. She squirmed and he put her down. 

She grabbed his hand and tried to pull him along. "Now we have to help my da." 

He took a deep breath. He couldn't just abandon the child. "Is there some place I can take you? Someone who can care for you?" 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and clung to him, crying. "No, we're all alone! Please help him, they're going to kill him!" 

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and cursed silently. "Show me where you last saw him. I can't promise that I will be able to do anything." 

She took his hand again and led him down the walkway. 

The walkway opened up into a small plaza. Obi-Wan and the girl crouched against the side of building and looked to the center of the open space. A man was kneeling there, bound, a gray robed figure standing next to him. Obi-Wan pulled them back, out of sight. 

He hugged his arms across his chest and looked anywhere but at her hope-filled face. Logically, he had no chance of success against a Hunter. The man out there would be taken to prison and probably killed. The girl would be put into the massive orphanage system, to be turned into an obedient citizen. And he, he would be turned over to Qui-Gon for execution, if he were lucky. He should just walk away and save himself. 

He glanced down at her, then slowly smiled. No. Perhaps his freedom would last less than a day, but he would start his fight against the Jedi now. He knelt down and started digging through his bag. 

"I have a plan, but you must be brave," he said, pulling out his robe and stuffing the bag under a nearby bench. As he was rolling up his sleeve, revealing the tattoos, the girl gasped and pulled away. She whispered, "You're one of them." 

Obi-Wan held her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Not anymore. I won't hurt you. Do you trust me?" He waited until she nodded, then stood and shrugged on the robe, fastening it in the front to hide his non-Jedi clothes. His braid was draped across his chest to enhance the disguise. Finally, he pulled out his lightsaber, holding it in one hand and gripping the girl by the   
forearm with the other. He leaned down and whispered to her, "Follow along with what I do, and don't worry." With that he pulled her into the plaza. 

His approach was immediately noticed by the Hunter, and as Obi-Wan neared the Jedi he said, "I think I have something you were looking for, Master Hunter." 

The prisoner at the Hunter's feet began to beg. "No, no, no! Please let her go. I'll tell you anything. Everything. Just let her go!" 

The Hunter looked at him coldly. "You will tell us everything, anyway." 

Obi-Wan reached them and pushed the girl to the ground, surreptitiously cushioning her fall. 

The Hunter nodded approvingly at Obi-Wan. "You have done well, padawan. When we return to the Temple, I will see that your master rewards you." Obi-Wan bowed slightly and stepped behind the other Jedi. 

"You see how useless it is to resist us. Tell me the names of your contacts, and I will see that your daughter lives a happy life. Defy me, inferior creature, and..." 

Obi-Wan smashed the hilt of his saber into the base of the man's skull and watched him crumble. As he had been hoping, the Hunter had not been expecting an attack from a fellow Jedi. 

Obi-Wan released the prisoner's binders with a wave of the Force. The man leapt to his feet, grabbed his daughter and ran. Obi-Wan followed. 

When they were sure that they weren't being chased, they stopped. The man dropped to his knees, sobbing and hugging his daughter tightly. Obi-Wan stood to one side, feeling like an intruder. As he turned to leave, the man stopped him. 

"Wait, stranger. I hate to do this, but I have to ask another favor of you." He pulled a box from the girl's pocket and held it up to Obi-Wan. "I was supposed to deliver this, but I can't risk going out onto the streets again. They've seen us, and we're going to have to disappear now. You helped us once. Help us again." 

Obi-Wan stared at the box in the man's outstretched hand. He glanced at his chrono; he had lost a lot of time already. Every passing minute increased the likelihood that he would be caught. 

"I can't, really. I've done as much as I can already." 

"Please. You're not on their side -- I can see that. What's in this box can help break their power. Take it. If you can't deliver it, destroy it, so the Jedi can't use it against us." 

Obi-Wan reluctantly took the box. It was deceptively heavy. "Why should I trust you? How do I know that this isn't a trap to test my loyalty?" 

The man shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. Can't you use some Jedi trick to see that I'm telling the truth?" 

Obi-Wan looked at the box, then quieted his mind, listening to the Force. The box felt ... right ... in his hand. 

"Where does it need to go? If it is on my way, perhaps I can drop it off." 

"Di'kang-li sector. Block 55, building 416, level 302, residence number 9401." 

Obi-Wan grimaced. That was the opposite direction from his chosen launching pad. 

"I will see that it is destroyed. I can promise no more." 

The man looked sad, but nodded. "That's all I can ask. You've already risked a lot for us." 

Obi-Wan started walking away, then turned back. "Who is 'us'?" 

"Just a group who wants the sentient beings of the galaxy to live free." The man stood, still clutching his daughter tightly to him. He clasped Obi-Wan on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "And just in case you do decide to deliver this, remember, 'I have very small sex organs'." 

Obi-Wan took a step back. "Excuse me?" 

The man laughed and slapped him on the arm. He opened the nearest door and stood in the doorway, looking back at Obi-Wan. "Just remember! And may the Force be with you, young man." He stepped inside and the girl waved at Obi-Wan as the door shut behind them. 

Obi-Wan retraced his steps and found his travel bag still lying where he left it. He stuffed his robe and the box into it, and started for the launch pad again. He had only gone a few blocks when his curiosity about what was in the box became unbearable. 

'I'll just take a quick look, then destroy it and be on my way,' he thought as he ducked into a public restroom and locked the door behind him. 

Inside the box were an old style data-reader and a data disk. He picked up the disk and examined it. The writing on it was almost illegible, but he thought he could make out the words 'Young People's Library' and a date. When he converted from the Old Republic calendar into the New Era one, he discovered that the disk was over 400 years old. How could a disk so old have useful information on it? 

He put the disk into the player and started it. A small, green figure dressed in Jedi robes appeared on the viewscreen. 

"Greetings, young sentient. Many questions you have about the Jedi. Answer them, this disk will." 

Obi-Wan leaned against a wall and watched, enthralled, as the Jedi master -- Yoda, he had called himself-- told the history of the Jedi and explained the Jedi Code. When the disk ended, he slowly sank to the floor, holding his head, trying to make sense of what he'd seen. Peace, knowledge and serenity? Guardians of peace and justice? Could it be true? Was that the way the Jedi were supposed to be? Was everything he had been taught a lie? 

He stared at the data-reader for a while longer, then put it on the floor and stood up, pulling out his lightsaber so he could destroy the disk and 'reader and be on his way. He powered up the blade, brought the tip close to the device, then stopped and deactivated it with a curse. People should know that the Jedi were not always as they are now. The Jedi themselves should know that there was a different path that they could follow. 

This information was important, and it was in his hands. 

He slammed a fist into the wall. He didn't want to do this. He should be on a ship right now, heading away from Coruscant. He should be trying to figure out a planet to hide on. He should...

He looked back down at the 'reader, then picked it up and put it into his pocket. He should get moving, if he wanted to get to the Di'kang-li sector and back before curfew. 

 

It was a very ordinary door, Obi-Wan thought as he stood in the deserted hallway of building 416. Nothing unusual about it, nothing menacing. So why was it so hard to reach out and touch the call panel? 

He held his hand just above the surface of the panel, then snatched it back, stepping away. 

This was insane. Why had he come here? What did he think he'd find? Allies? Someone who needed his help? Someone who could help him? 

Nonsense. His bag bounced on his back as he walked briskly away. He didn't need anyone -- he was safer alone. 

And yet... He stopped and reached into his pocket, brushing his fingers across the cool, smooth surface of the 'reader. 

Obi-Wan looked back at the door. Perhaps he could simply drop off the 'reader and still make it to his launching pad in a reasonable time. 

Or maybe... 

No. Get rid of the thing and get out of there. No time for maybe. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the residence and pressed his palm against the call panel. The door slid open immediately and he was yanked inside, the door closing behind him. 

A massive red-furred Taowuuli slammed him against a wall and pinned him there, the tip of a knife pressed against Obi-Wan's throat. 

The brute growled at him, showing a mouth full of sharp teeth. "You fool! What you do, stand out there so long, attract attention to us? You better have good reason for be here!" 

Obi-Wan surveyed the room; he could see four other sentients of various species. They all seemed mostly harmless, so he concentrated on the one currently crushing him into the wall. 

He reached toward his pocket. "I've brought..." 

The movement exposed the tattoos on his right wrist. The Taowuuli grabbed his arm and held it out for the others to see. 

"He Jedi! I kill him now, before he call for help!" 

This was ridiculous. He was a fool to have hoped that these people would accept him or could help him. Here he was, one of the Jedi trained, and he was being threatened by an inferior being with a primitive weapon. It was time to leave. The Force flowed into him as he prepared to free himself. 

"Thou'll kill no one, Cesta'rl." 

Obi-Wan looked past the red-furred shoulder to see a wizened, ebony skinned woman approaching, her diaphanous garments fluttering about her as she shuffled up to him. Silver eyes transfixed him, and he let the gathered Force ebb away. When she reached him and his captor, she poked Obi-Wan in the arm. 

"Have thee anything to say for thyself, boy?" 

His only reply was a confused look. 

"Perhaps something that thou wert told to remember?" 

That triggered something in his memory. What was that strange phrase that the man had said to him after giving him the box with the data-reader? Oh yes... 

"Um....'I have very small sex organs'? " 

The Taowuuli, "Cesta'rl" apparently, pressed the blade harder into his throat. "Where you get that code phrase? Who you torture for it?" 

Obi-Wan had had enough. Using Force augmented strength he threw the hulking being, slamming him to the floor half a room away and tearing the knife out of his hand at the same time, bringing it to his own. He drove the knife, point first, into the ferracrete wall behind him, burying it to the hilt. 

Disgusted, he said, "I didn't torture anyone for it. A man gave it to me when he gave me this. " He pulled out the 'reader and pushed it toward the old woman. "He asked me to deliver it for him, and I have, and now I need to be on my way." 

She took it from him, reverently, cradling it in both hands. Awe filled her eyes. "This is one of our greatest treasures. Thou hast done us a service beyond thy comprehension." She shuffled over to a table and placed the 'reader carefully in the center, then returned to Obi-Wan. When he took a step toward the door to leave, she grabbed him by the wrist, looking up at him with a   
worried expression. "It was in the hands of Lonal and his daughter. Have they met with misadventure?" 

Patting her hand, he smiled, reassuringly, he hoped. "They're fine now, but I won't be if I stay. Excuse me." He attempted to pull away from her. 

She held onto his arm with surprising strength and tapped his tattoos. "Thou art Jedi marked, but I feel that thou hast no love for them. Art thou running, boy?" 

Obi-Wan bristled at the term and jerked his arm away. "I am not a boy and it is none of your concern." The hurt look in her eyes made him wince inside. Begrudgingly, he admitted, "Yes, I am running." 

Reaching up and caressing his cheek, she whispered, "We can help thee. We can hide thee, and get thee off of Coruscant. Thou art not alone." 

Cesta'rl had long since picked himself up from the floor, and had been keeping a respectful distance between himself and the Jedi, but rushed toward the old woman at those words. "Ling-Lao! It too dangerous. Even if he not turn us in, they soon be hunt him. You see this?" He pointed to Obi-Wan's padawan braid. "This mean that he got a Jedi Master come after him!" 

Obi-Wan could feel the truth behind the big sentient's fear. Qui-Gon would never stop hunting for him. Regretfully, he stepped back from the woman. "Your offer is tempting, but he's right. I will only bring you danger if I stay." 

She blocked his way again. "No, we do not abandon those who help us. And I think that someone Jedi trained would be useful for our group." A frail hand was pressed to his chest, above his heart. "Stay, Obi-Wan. Thou art one of us, if thou choose to be." She looked at him shrewdly, letting her hand fall away. "Or dost thou not believe that we can protect thee?" 

Obi-Wan examined the small group that surrounded him. They didn't look like they could protect themselves, let alone defend him from the wrath of a Jedi master. 

"No, I appreciate the offer, but I will not endanger you. Good luck to you," he said, bowing, then stepping around her. 

"Stubborn boy! If thou must go, wait and I shall give thee sweet cakes and travel bread for the journey." Patting him on his stomach, she added, "Thou art too thin. Thou need a grandparent to make sure that thou eat. Thou might stay, just for that?" 

Amused, he shook his head, smiled gently at her and removed her hand. 

The lights went off. Obi-Wan could feel fear spike through everyone in the room. No, not yet, he silently begged, can't I have just a little more time? 

The door slid open suddenly and acrid smoke rolled in, causing the others to retch and cough. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the old woman behind him and pulled the lightsaber from his jacket. A figure appeared in the doorway, illumined by the hall lights, and Obi-Wan's heart stopped. 

Qui-Gon Jinn had found him. 

He wanted to run. He wanted to fall onto his hands and knees and crawl to Qui-Gon for forgiveness. Terror held him frozen, instead. 

The lights flickered back on as Qui-Gon strode into the room and seized Obi-Wan by the arm, jerking him toward him. 

"Obi-Wan! Thank the Force I found you first. The Hunters are all over this district. You will come with me now and you will be safe." Qui-Gon yanked him forward, causing him to stumble. 

Cesta'rl jumped in front of the Jedi. "What I tell you, Ling-Lao? That bastard seen us now. We have to take him out!" 

Qui-Gon turned to the big Taowuuli and casually waved a hand in his direction. Cesta'rl flew across the room and smashed into the wall. He crumpled to the ground, unmoving. 

The Jedi master gazed coolly at the others, who were cringing against the walls. "Does anyone else wish to try to stop me from exercising my rights to my apprentice?" The room was silent. "I didn't think so." 

He dragged Obi-Wan to the door. "We will be leaving on a long-term mission immediately. By the time we return to Coruscant, this will all be forgotten. When we are away from here I will inform the Hunters of this location, so they may capture these traitors." 

That broke Obi-Wan's paralysis. He wrenched himself out of Qui-Gon's grip and stood, blocking the entrance. 

"No. No, I won't be coming with you. And I won't let you turn them in." 

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose to stop me?" 

Obi-Wan ignited his lightsaber and held it in front of him. 

"Any way I can." 

Qui-Gon pulled his 'saber from his belt and activated it. "You realize that this means your death, Padawan. You can't hope to defeat me." 

"No, but I can hope to delay you." Without taking his eyes off of Qui-Gon, he shouted, "Get everyone out, Ling-Lao! I'll hold him here as long as I can." 

Qui-Gon tilted his head in the direction of the fleeing beings. "Look at them run. They're insignificant, not worthy of a Jedi's consideration. You would die for them?" 

"So it seems." 

Obi-Wan took a defensive stance and stared into his former master's eyes. Almost too fast to see, Qui-Gon came at him. Their blades met, sizzling. Qui-Gon pushed and the crossed blades inched toward Obi-Wan's face. Obi-Wan was forced to take a step back. Then another. Qui-Gon was backing him into the wall. 

Obi-Wan knew he was dead as soon as he lost room to maneuver. He kicked out at Qui-Gon, making him jump back and giving Obi-Wan an opening. 

He leapt, twisting in midair, and landed in the center of the room, waiting for the Master to attack him again. Qui-Gon slowly stalked toward him then launched into a furious attack. Obi-Wan stumbled backward, barely able to parry the punishing blows. 

A sudden revelation hit him. This was no training bout. Qui-Gon fully intended to kill him. Any restraint he still felt dissolved, and he attacked. Desperation lent him energy, but the more desperately he fought the more he could feel his connection to the Force weaken, slip away. He had no plan, no strategy -- he was just blindly hacking at Qui-Gon. He couldn't keep it up. 

Qui-Gon finally got through his defenses, burning his shoulder. In pain, he staggered sideways. Qui-Gon Force-pushed him and he fell to the ground, losing his grip on his lightsaber. As he reached for it, Qui-Gon's booted foot came down on his wrist. He rolled to his back and watched as the glowing green blade approached his chest. 

He was going to die. Peace flowed into him as he accepted that and relaxed. Time crystallized and in the moment between heartbeats, he saw the path to take. 

Then the moment shattered. The Force surged through him, and he acted without thought. 

Obi-Wan yanked Cesta'rl's knife from with wall with the Force, flinging it toward his master. Qui-Gon deflected it easily, but was distracted. Obi-Wan lashed upward with his foot, smashing into Qui-Gon's groin. 

The Jedi Master doubled over and stepped back. Obi-Wan jumped to his feet, wrenched the 'saber away and knocked the older man to the floor. Astonishment was plain on Qui-Gon's face as he saw his own blade hovering over his heart. 

"Stop!" 

Obi-Wan paused and out of the corner of his eye saw Cesta'rl get up and walk toward them. He didn't move the lightsaber away from Qui-Gon's chest. 

"Enough, Obi-Wan, you've proven yourself." Cesta'rl stood next to them and looked down at the prostrate Jedi. "You were right, Qui-Gon. He was ready." 

Obi-Wan deactivated the 'saber and stepped away from them, confused. Cesta'rl reached down and helped Qui-Gon to his feet, saying, "But did you have to throw me that hard? Between you and this one," he gestured at Obi-Wan, "I have bruises on my contusions." 

Qui-Gon straightened with a wince. "I'll trade you, your bruises for mine." 

"No deal, old friend! My mate would be most upset." 

Cesta'rl laughed and slapped Qui-Gon on the back before turning back to Obi-Wan, baring his teeth in an attempt at a smile. "I'm sorry for the charade, Obi-Wan, but we had to know how you'd react. You were thinking of rebellion, but we needed to be sure that you could overcome your conditioning and fight for your beliefs." 

A movement caught Obi-Wan's eye. Ling-Lao was leading the group he had seen earlier back into the room. The man who had given him the datareader and the people he had thought to be Hunters joined them. 

Bewildered, he turned back to the Taowuuli. "Who are you?" 

Cesta'rl opened his arms wide and said, "We are the Resistance. We work to end the Jedi tyranny." He extended a hand to Obi-Wan. "Will you join us? Decide quickly -- you will not be given another chance." 

Obi-Wan looked at the very small group skeptically. "This is the Resistance?" 

"We're only one cell. Our only contact with the other cells is through code. That way, if one of us is caught, only a few are compromised. Those with the training to withstand Jedi mindprobes," he nodded at Qui-Gon, "and those with natural immunity to them," he touched his own chest, "serve as leaders." 

Obi-Wan's eyes sought out the old woman. "I don't understand. You're not the leader?" 

Smiling kindly, she walked over to him. "Did I ever say that I was? I'd make a terrible leader. They only keep me around because I can break into the Jedi core-computer. When we bring new people into the group, Cesta'rl and I find it useful to play on their misconceptions with our 'mystical crone' and 'savage barbarian' disguises." 

She took his hand in hers. "Please don't hold this deceit against us, Obi-Wan. Join us. We need you. And besides, I still owe you some sweetcakes." 

He returned her smile, weakly. Squeezing her hand, he whispered, "I would like nothing better in the world than to taste your sweetcakes. But I can make no promises." 

Then he kissed her cheek and turned back to Qui-Gon, gesturing for him to follow to an unoccupied corner of the room. 

Obi-Wan stared at the floor for a few moments, gathering his thoughts. Then he looked up into Qui-Gon's face and said in a bitter, low voice, "So this was all some elaborate hoax to see if I was worthy of joining your little group?" Blinking rapidly, he choked out, "What about last night? Was that a test too?" 

Qui-Gon flinched at the pain he felt coming from his apprentice and instinctively reached for Obi-Wan to comfort him, but stopped at the warning he saw in the younger man's eyes. His face fell. "No, Obi-Wan, I never intended to hurt you." He glanced over at the waiting Resistance members. "Please, let us talk in private." He led a reluctant Obi-Wan into an empty backroom. 

After Qui-Gon closed the door, Obi-Wan went to the other end of the room and leaned against the wall, waiting expectantly for Qui-Gon to say something. Instead, the Jedi Master watched him silently. Finally, Obi-Wan said, irritated, "I don't know what you want me to say." 

"Say that you will join us." 

Obi-Wan stood up straight. "Is that all? And what if I decide that I don't want to join you? What will happen to me?" 

"I would remove your memories of this. Your life would go on as though none of this happened, but we would never let you get close to the organization again." 

Obi-Wan began to pace through the room. "You think you know me. You seemed very sure that I would end up here. What if I hadn't helped that girl in the first place, if I had let her be captured?" 

Qui-Gon turned away, not answering. 

"Qui-Gon? I said..." 

Quietly, he replied, "I heard you, Padawan." He looked steadily at Obi-Wan. "If you had done that, I would have called the Hunters and reported that my apprentice was missing." 

Obi-Wan stood still. "I would have been executed," he said softly. 

"Yes, and I would have stood there and watched you die. No matter how much I love you, I could not help a man who would turn an innocent child over to the Hunters." 

Obi-Wan took a step forward. "What? You love...?" His voice broke on the last word, and he went over to Qui-Gon, staring into his eyes. "Then ... why?" he asked intensely. 

"You know very well that love is forbidden to the Jedi." 

"But why should you care about the Jedi rules? What we say in private..." 

"Obi-Wan, we were being observed. There were other eyes watching, another mind listening. I could feel it. The Council is already suspicious of me. If I had not acted in the required way..." 

"Required?" 

"Yes, required. According to the Council's rules, there was only one correct way to handle the situation. If I did not do it, they would've wanted to know why. They could have taken you away for mental treatment and given you to a new master. They could have called me in for questioning and tried to scan my mind. I couldn't allow that." 

Obi-Wan turned his back to Qui-Gon and walked a few steps away. 

"I'm sorry, Obi. I knew what your feelings were, but couldn't warn you not to say anything. You would've wanted to know why. It was just recently that your mental discipline had become strong enough so that you would not betray yourself. And us." 

"So, you only did .... what you did ... because we were being watched? What would you have done if we had been alone?" 

"I would've taken you into my arms and told you that I loved you too, and always have." Qui-Gon continued, adamantly, "You have to understand Obi-Wan, this resistance cannot be allowed to fail. I will sacrifice everything -- you, me, our happiness -- to preserve it." 

Obi-Wan whirled around, angry. 

"You didn't have the right to sacrifice me!" 

"Obi-Wan..." 

"No, I cannot accept that! I've seen you bend the rules for complete strangers, but you couldn't be bothered to do it for me? " 

Qui-Gon replied calmly, "I had no choice. The fate of billions depends on what we do. Padawan, sometimes terrible things must be done for the good of the cause." 

Obi-Wan gaped at him, appalled. "Do you really believe that? I want to fight the Jedi so that I can stop committing atrocities. Now you tell me that I would commit them anyway, but it would be all right because it would be in the name of the correct philosophy?" 

"You will come to realize that there is neither true dark nor true light, but only variations of gray." 

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I don't ever want to understand that." 

He turned away again, staring at the wall, hugging his arms across his chest. 

"I don't know if I can do this, Qui-Gon. Part of me wants to join you. Part of me never wants to see you again. And a large part of me wants you to take these memories away, all of them, and make things as they were. I was almost happy." 

He felt Qui-Gon step behind him and heard that gentle voice say, "If I took your memories, you wouldn't be content. You would always feel like you were missing something. I do know you Obi. You want this. Don't throw it aside because of me." He laid a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

Obi-Wan shrugged the hand off and walked further away, thinking. After a time, he turned to face Qui-Gon again. His eyes were dry, and his voice steady. 

"You're right. As always, you are right. I want to stop the Jedi more than anything else. I'll join you, with two conditions." 

"Name them." 

"First, you are no longer my master. I think I have learned everything that I care to learn from you. When we are around other Jedi, I will play my part, but otherwise you do not command me. We are equals in this, or I do not join you." 

Qui-Gon nodded, reluctantly. "I can agree to that. what is your other condition?" 

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, staring directly into the older man's eyes. 

"You, Master Jinn, will never touch me again. I don't care what you have to do, what excuses you have to make to the Council, but you will not touch me." 

Dismay was plain on Qui-Gon's face. "Obi-Wan, you can't mean that!" 

"This is not negotiable, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan insisted, coldly. "I need you to promise me this, or I cannot trust you." 

"Padawan, I love you," Qui-Gon said, desperate. "I hoped that I could make you understand why this was necessary. I hoped that you would forgive me," he finished, hoarsely. 

"Did you really think that you could reveal all this to me, and I would fall into your arms as though nothing had happened? You're only fooling yourself." 

"I regret that you were hurt..." 

Obi-Wan gave a mirthless laugh. "Is 'regret' the best you can do? Qui-Gon, I offered you my love, and you obliterated it before my eyes! It doesn't matter now that you didn't mean it -- the relationship we had has been destroyed." 

"Can't it be rebuilt?" Qui-Gon asked quietly. 

"No. Never." 

Slowly, with tears in his eyes, Qui-Gon slid his hands into the sleeves of his robe and bowed slightly. "I vow to you, Padawan Kenobi, that I will never touch you, without your permission, again." 

Obi-Wan stared at him through narrowed eyes for a brief time, then nodded. "Close enough." 

He turned away from Qui-Gon and walked to the door. Before opening it, he whispered back, "I wish I could forgive you. I did love you." 

Then he forced a smile that he didn't feel onto his face and opened the door, walking out into the main room. 

"Congratulate me, my friends, I've just made the most foolish decision of my life. Now, where are my sweet-cakes?" 

 

\---This is not the ending. This is just the beginning.---

**Author's Note:**

> Note on the word "Mirror" in the title. Back in August last year, I had an idea to do a Mirror universe story, like the Star Trek episode "Mirror, Mirror". The guys from the "good" universe never made it over to the Mirror universe, but I kept "mirror" in the title anyway.


End file.
